Layton's War
by FranziskavonKarmaWhippedYou
Summary: A war is tearing Britain apart, and explosions rip up the city of London while the rebels living in the city now reside in underground caverns. There is no place to hide when your past haunts you. OCs & OC pairings.
1. The Tunnels of London

**So I'm bored and watching documentaries. The one about Sudan's current genocides first, now one about Adolf Hitler, so now it's inspired this. Keep in mind I'm not going to explain everything until later. So welcome to...**

**Layton's War.**

* * *

"Move, you idiot!" Clive yelled, shoving Luke down into the hole. The bomb tore through the building and Clive cried out as the flames burned his arm. He retracted it and scrambled away, falling down the hole with a screech. The landing took his breath away and he stared up at the billowing smoke above the hole.

"Clive!" Emmy shot over to him and dragged him across the rough ground, cursing as rocks and shrapnel tumbled down from the opening of the hole. She pulled Clive into a small room and threw him onto a torn-up mattress. Dr Skylar rushed over to Clive and shoved Emmy out.

"Emmy, go. I need peace and silence to take care of him," she snapped, then turned her attention to the injured Clive. "Clive? Can you hear me?" Emmy left the small hospital room and sighed deeply as she walked into what was considered the a 'living room' of the cave networks.

It was cramped and uncomfortable, and without seats. The best food they had were several crackers saved for breakfast and they could hear the roaring of bombs above them. Layton was sitting in the corner of the room. He was deathly pale, exaggerating the dark bags beneath his eyes. Half of Layton's face was disfigured. It had been destroyed by shrapnel six months ago.

Luke and Flora were curled up in the corner next to the dying sparks of a fire, with only themselves for heat. Other rebels were dotted around the room - a constantly sighing girl called Maysey and her older brother, a charming, handsome and muscular man named Nassau who never let anything get him down, even the war. They were sitting in the corner nibbling on something.

Emmy perched herself next to Nassau on a small boulder. "Whatcha' eating?" she asked rather casually.

"Since we managed to get some time Up-Top, I managed to grab some biscuit crumbs. The Professor doesn't think they're good enough to keep, so we're having them now. Want one?" Nassau extended a hand filled with tiny crumbs. Emmy took a few. They were enough to quell her hunger, just for a short while, at least.

"I'm not sure we'll be able to go Up-Top for a while now," Emmy sighed. "Those were some serious explosions up there. Maybe we should go and check up some other reb camps, maybe salvage some supplies..." Nassau looked grim.

"We might not be so lucky this time," he said darkly. "I don't hear much good of other camps when I'm roaming in the Tunnel." But he smiled again. "Though I might be making a mistake. Maybe some further out camps will have stuff." Emmy glanced up at the ceiling. It was covered in a slimy mold.

Dr Skylar walked in from the medical room. "Clive is going to need a lot of care and treatment. He's deteriorating badly right now, and it's highly likely without further resources, he'll die." She looked sad, her eyes bloodshot and groggy. "I'm sorry. You should check Up-Top when it's next clear, and try some other camps." Layton nodded and rose to his feet, suddenly alert.

"Nassau, Emmy. Let's go and search the other camps," he said, though he still sounded tired and exhausted.

"Hey!" Luke jumped to his feet. "Professor, you're tired! You should sleep! We'll go for you!"

"Nonsense," Layton replied half-heartedly. "I'll go..."

"Professor, you need sleep," Dr Skylar interrupted. "Let the kids go. There's no harm in it. Now sit down and sleep. Maysey, I'd like to give you a health check-up if you please." Maysey didn't speak at all, instead silently rising and walking over. Nassau quickly grabbed a jacket and slung it over Flora's shoulders, then the party started into the Tunnels.

They were dark and damp. Vision was limited and instead they navigated by feel. Each rebel camp was located somewhere in the complex of caves. Nassau, who traversed the Tunnels frequently, lead them to a few camps, but none of them had any medicine, food or general resources to spare for Nassau's group. As usual, Nassau simply smiled, nodded, thanked the camp and moved on.

Nothing could tell the Tunnel-walking group that it was nightfall, but they guessed it as they grew exhausted and tired. They had moved too far away to return to their camp within less than hours, so Nassau pulled off his shirt and lay it down as a blanket. Emmy threw her jacket down, and Flora used Nassau's. They slept closely together, to conserve their heat.

During the night, a figure clad in black approached the insomniac-ridden Nassau and whispered something into his ear, then there was a bang and Nassau fell to the ground, blood pooling around him.

* * *

**You probably don't feel much for Nassau, do you? After all, he's just an OC that appeared randomly. Poor Nassau. :( Oh well, he'll see some more care in the next few chapters or so. But Clive, I bet you're all worried about Clive! Don't worry, Dr Skylar's taking good care of him. :)**

**Please comment! I want to hear your voices!**

**Ta, **

**FVKWY**


	2. Hospitalization

**Be prepared for a dramatic chapter of arguments, Nassau, unconscious Clive and a very, very evil man.**

* * *

Emmy woke to the sound of a loud bang and scrambled to her knees, screaming as she caught sight of the blood pooling around Nassau. "NASSAU!" Instantly the others were spurred awake and around Nassau.

He sat up with a groan. "My shoulder hurts," he whined. "Oww. I think we better get back home, right?" He smiled up at Emmy, who hugged him instantly.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay!" she declared, and pulled away as Nassau winced. She glanced at his injured shoulder, bare flesh covered with a layer of blood. "Sorry."

"Wait," Luke interrupted. "Nassau, is there somewhere closer that we can go?" Nassau was in the know about all the rebel camps in the Tunnels, and he looked up.

"That's a good idea," he grinned, then nodded his head. "There's a camp somewhere nearby rigged with bombs. I know where the bombs are, so we can get in. I believe the person behind the bombs has more resources than five of our camps combined." Nassau gave a toothy grin.

He lead them through the Tunnels, and suddenly stopped. "Wait," he said, "the bombs are here." He slowly began moving, carefully, avoiding the bombs that nobody else could see. "The bombs are slight bulges in the ground. I'll help you." So Nassau took everyone step-by-step through their bomb avoiding, until they were all at the mouth of a cave.

It was extremely dark, but there was a slight humming and light pouring in from another cave. Nassau carefully took them into that cave, and the party couldn't believe themselves. The cave was filled with supplies, machinery and lit by fire torches. At a wooden desk, on a wooden chair, sat a figure blanketed by a cape.

"Oh, I don't believe this!" Emmy exclaimed, causing the sleeping figure to jump and turn around. "Descole!" She pointed a finger, searching for words. "Ah... ah..."

"Hello," Descole said with a malicious smirk. "What can I do for you?"

"We need medicine," Nassau interrupted, unknowing of Descole's identity. "I've been shot, and a friend of mine is dying. If you have any to spare, please, give us some." Descole raised an eyebrow at Emmy, Luke and Flora.

"He doesn't know," Luke said. Descole nodded and grinned, a grin full of evil.

He looked at Nassau. "The phantom gunman's been around for a few days. We have reason to suspect he's one of the government. Do you know what this implies?"

"The government have been spying on us?" Nassau suggested. Descole nodded.

"Precisely," he said. "And that bullet could've been a tracking device, or at the very least harbouring a tracking device. The agent wouldn't shoot you - or any of the others - for no reason, because that alerts us of his presence. What's his name?" He turned to Flora and Luke with the question.

"He's Nassau!" Flora said brightly. "And he's very nice and kind. In fact, he helped us set up camp and he's been ever so helpful... Oh! I'm rambling." She blushed and looked at the ground.

"Nassau. I'm afraid you will have to stay here for some time while we remove the tracker from you. And you said you needed medicine for a friend? Bring your friend. As malicious as my intents usually are, we are in this war together," Descole explained. He gestured to a door in the back of the cavern. "Nassau. Go on through. You three, bring whatever friend has found themself injured. Now it's late, so I need sleep."

Luke, Flora and Emmy left Descole to sleep and guided themselves through the bomb trail themselves, Emmy calling out instructions in place of sharp-eyed Nassau. They silently made the hour-long trek back to their camp and while Luke and Flora slept, Emmy filled Dr Skylar in on the events, then got some sleep.

The next day, they trudged through the Tunnels, Dr Skylar carrying an unconscious and ill Clive and Emmy directing them with what little knowledge she retained of where Descole's camp was. Dr Skylar had difficulty avoiding the bombs with Clive in her arms, but she made it into Descole's supply haven. He turned from writing something.

"Welcome back," he said, almost dryly. "Doctor, there's a room in the back for Clive. But such filth of humanity should hardly be allowed to use the facilities of MY cave."

"Shut up!" Emmy yelled. Descole effortlessly pulled Emmy down until her face was level with his. She had the urge to spit in his face, but Descole's free hand was gripping the hilt of his sword. She decided spitting wasn't worth it.

"You make no mistake about it, I am being kind by letting you even walk through my door," he hissed. "Throw my kindness back in my face and I'm afraid I'll have to cut you down where you stand. It's easier than it sounds, _Altava_." He flung her back with enough force that Emmy nearly toppled backwards. She glared at Descole and swore.

Luke and Flora stared at her with disgust and... wonder. Her eyes were narrowed and she was glaring at Descole as if he had just killed somebody, rather than take in two of her friends to care for.

Descole hissed. "Get out of my sight. One more bit of hostility from you, and I'll arrange for both your friends to be killed. _Do you understand_?" Emmy glared and nodded, then strode out the door and into the pitch black room, throwing herself to the ground. Her body shook as she cried, but no noise would come, just tears.

"Emmy?" Luke's voice broke into the darkness.

"Go away." Emmy didn't look up, but her voice shook. Luke knew she was crying.

"Emmy, I-"

"GO AWAY!"

Luke recoiled and burst out into the tunnel. The last thing he heard before the red took him away was the loudest 'BANG!' he'd ever heard.

* * *

**Uh oh. That sounds... dangerous. I bet everyone hates Descole now. A shame, cause I like Descole.**

**Next chapter full of heartbreak and romance and... I actually don't know. Be prepared for insanity, though.**

**Ta!**

**FVKWY**


	3. Human

**Shortie.**

* * *

_"Dessy?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Will we ever have children?"_

_"I don't know. I haven't really set aside the time to think about it yet..."_

_"I think we should have lots."_

_"You do remember babies are the most annoying things on the planet?"_

_"Oh, Dessy. But what if you really, really loved it?"_

_"Perhaps that would atone for its sin of keeping me awake all night."_

_"Hahahaha! Typical of you, Dessy, so typical... Ah... Dessy?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you, too."_

* * *

When he heard the bang, Descole shot to his feet instantly, sword in hand. He had an idea, and let out a worried call. "Altava?"

"I'm fine!" Emmy called back, not caring that she hated Descole. "But... Luke!" Descole sheathed his sword and ran into the generator room, where the only noise was the hum of the generators. The door to the generator room was charred.

"He stepped on a bomb," Descole stated knowingly. "...I think, and this is merely a possibility, that he is dead."

Emmy stared up at him with tearful eyes Descole couldn't see in the dark. "B-but..."

Descole felt a lump in his throat. Tears were welling in his eyes. He angrily slid his mask off and wiped them, then quickly shoved it back on and walked into the Tunnels. He saw Luke instantly - a charred form lying on the floor. Descole swore and picked him up.

Emmy watched as Descole, holding a charred figure that was coming to pieces in his arms, rushed through into his office. Emmy sprang to her feet, then suddenly remembered something.

"Where's the Professor?" she asked herself. "He came with us..." But she had no time to think of the Professor. He could take care of himself; Luke couldn't. Emmy rushed through into the room at the back. It was lit by flame torches, and a dozen people were lying on the floor, moaning. Emmy followed Descole into a small cavern at the back, where a man in a mask and Don Paolo were operating on Nassau.

They looked up at Descole as he walked in. "Holy shit," Don Paolo gasped. "What the hell is that thing?"

"That thing," Emmy butted in, "is Luke Triton."

Don Paolo stared at Emmy, then closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, both of you, but at this point he's long gone. It would be cruel to keep him alive, Emmy. I'm sorry."

* * *

"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" Emmy screamed, thrashing in Descole's powerful grip as he pulled her into the generator room, shoving her up against the wall. She tried to get back up, but Descole pressed his hands into her chest and kept her held firmly against the wall. "I HATE YOU!" Emmy screamed.

When Descole looked into her eyes, he recoiled. Something in him stopped Emmy from bursting into the operating 'theatre' and grabbing Luke's corpse. She had seen a flash of emotion in Descole. Human emotion. Pain.

"Descole?" Emmy asked slowly. She received no answer, so she tried his first name. "Jean?"

He glared at her. "Don't call me that!" he snapped, real and powerful fury in his voice. Emmy rose to her feet. Something was wrong.

"Descole," she said softly. "Are you quite alright?" He made no response.

As Layton walked through the doorway, looking dishevelled and exhausted, Descole moved. In one swift motion, the tip of his sword was at Layton's throat.

"Oh!" Layton exclaimed.

Emmy stared at Descole. There was something... human. He wasn't just like a machine tailored to hate Layton. He had shown emotion. The most he'd ever shown before was rage and hatred.

"Descole, please," Emmy begged. "Tell me what's wrong."

* * *

**WTF? Descole? Emotions? I bet you are completely mind-boggled. Don't worry, all will be revealed in the next chapter.**


	4. Alicia Altava

Descole calmly sheathed her sword, in preparation for what he was about to say.

"I once loved somebody," he said shortly, his eyes cast downwards. "It sounds difficult to believe, but I did once love somebody so irrationally I would have put my life on the line for her."

He glanced up at Emmy and paused. "It was... It was someone in your family. Alicia. My beautiful, beautiful Alicia."

Emmy stiffened. "A-Alicia? My sister?"

Descole sighed and closed his eyes, deep in reminisce. "Yes. I loved Alicia. My beautiful Alicia..." He took a step away from Emmy. "She looked just like you."

"She never mentioned you!" Emmy argued, but deep down she knew that was a flimsy argument.

"She didn't want you to know," Descole replied, leaning against the wall. "We wanted children. We never had any."

"And why ever not?" Layton inquired.

"Alicia passed away the morning after we tried for our first child," Descole murmured. "She was murdered. Someone took my beautiful Alicia away from me."

Emmy nodded sadly. "Yeah, Alicia was stabbed during the night. The police never told us who reported it."

"Well then, now you know," Descole replied. "That morning... I had planned to propose to her. But she was gone. Someone took her."

Layton sighed. "I know how you feel, Descole. I've been through something similar."

"I am aware of that," Descole replied stubbornly. "Tch. I don't let anyone sympathize, do you understand, Layton?" He turned to Emmy, though it pained him just to see her face. "Now. Have you seen the girl... What was her name... Flora?"

Emmy shook her head. "No..."

"Well. Well..." Descole raised his head. "I'm not sure, but I think she ran away. Beside me, when I was looking for the Triton boy."

* * *

Clive was barely well enough to walk without the supportive arm of Nassau on his right and the strong walking stick he'd taken from the corpse of an elderly man. Nassau, with only a healing gunshot wound to the shoulder, was in far better condition.

They stepped out into the Tunnels. Clive yelped as he stumbled, but Nassau's firm arm pulled him up.

"Damn bastard," Clive groaned. "If it weren't for Bill Hawks, this war wouldn't have happened." Nassau shook his head.

"It wasn't just Hawks," he replied, knowing of Clive's biased nature. "We weren't the only corrupt government. You know that they are to blame, too. Hawks was just foolish enough to accept the proposition of a war instead of surrendering."

Clive held his tongue. There was no point arguing with Nassau - he was the only reason Clive could be out in the Tunnels. They weren't out in pursuit of Layton, Emmy and Descole. Clive was out, and he said he wanted some fresh air. Nassau had agreed only under the circumstances that Clive did not go Up-Top if it was being bombed. Yeah, right.

As they approached the one and only hole to Up-Top and Nassau set up the ladder while Clive leaned against the wall, they could hear a silence from Up-Top.

Nassau carefully helped Clive up into the bombed streets, then followed, keeping Clive upright as they walked through the ashes of a ruined city.

Clive froze and shoved Nassau backwards with an elbow in the stomach. Nassau yelled out as he fell. Clive's inability to walk properly was nothing but a lie, as he was racing across the destroyed city, brandishing his walking stick as a weapon. Nassau scrambled to his feet and darted after Clive. Nassau was faster on his feet than Clive, whose every step sent pain shooting up his legs.

Clive skidded to a halt in front of a dead-end alley. Nassau rushed behind him and stared into the alley. Sitting in the center of the alley, stained with blood and grinning wildly.

"Wait," Nassau said, "what the Hell are you doing Up-Top?"

"I've been up here since the war started. Why do you want to know?" he asked, the malice in his grin revealing itself. "So what are you talking about? Hmm?"

"Then... who's down there?" Clive started. Descole frowned.

"Not I, dear serial killer, not I. So, pray tell, what is this false me getting up to?" he asked with a tilt of his head. Clive's legs suddenly buckled beneath him and Nassau sailed forwards to catch him, ensnaring him. "Hurt by an explosion, I presume," he said to Clive. "Such a pity. You need your legs in a time of cruel warfare."

"Your impostor," Nassau said as if Descole hadn't mentioned Clive at all. "Is saving lives."

Descole clasped his hands together. "How sweet," he said sarcastically. "But has he... mentioned anything of late? Anything somewhat personal?"

"He's been talking to the Professor and Emmy, blew up Luke and they're on the tail of Flora," Clive explained blankly. "I did hear him talking. Something about 'Alicia'." Descole let out a long sigh and rose to his feet. He was barefoot and the bottoms of his trousers had been torn up cruelly by the landscape.

"I presumed so. This way," Descole said darkly, taking Clive and Nassau into an old abandoned flat. The stairwell had collapsed, but the former homes of two were still mostly intact. Descole slipped into the more intact of the two and took them into a small room with only two beds inside.

Descole perched himself atop the bed and gestured for Clive and Nassau to sit. He glanced at the walls, covered in his saved decorative swords. He cleared his throat

"Government spies are everywhere," he explained. "One recently infiltrated my former home in the wreckage and made off with a good amount of my personal belongings, my journal included. That must have been how he gained his knowledge of me, and my motivations. Also of Alicia - our secret was ours alone, and yet he must have morphed the story somehow."

"Alicia?" Nassau asked with a confused frown.

"My fianc e, Alicia Altava. We were engaged when I was a pure man, before I became impure. You see, I became an impure being when Alicia was made comatose. I am unsure of the reason why, but I was quite determined to solve her mystery," Descole said, cocking his head to the side. "I usually keep Alicia under my watchful eye. She's in the room next door. Now, tell me. Where have you two been living? And where is Layton?"

"We live in a complex of underground tunnels. Oh!" Nassau shot up. "Maysey and Dr Skylar! We've forgotten about them!"

"Maysey? Dr Skylar? They came up here, or as you call it, 'Up-Top'. The woman in the lab coat and the flimsy-looking girl who resembles you somewhat?" Nassau nodded and Descole flashed him the most malicious grin. "Well, here is a lovely way to make an impression. I killed them both, when they came 'Up-Top'. They were in my way!"

Nassau leapt to his feet and ran for a blade on the wall, but Descole flung out his sword and knocked Nassau to the ground.

"Now, now," Descole said, rising to his feet and standing over a furious Nassau. "I'll have you know they died for a good cause. They are my food source."

Nassau screamed in fury and tried to grab Descole's leg, but before he could do that, the evil mastermind shoved the blade through Nassau's throat. He died.

* * *

**So blunt. So, so blunt. 'He died'. **

**Poor Nassau & Maysey & Dr Skylar. OCs, you will be missed (but only by me). Now, who can be the mysterious false Descole? And what will happen regarding Emmy's elder sister? Will she awake from her coma after years of lying dormant? Or will Descole be forced to hold her hand tightly before he falls asleep for the rest of his life? (Yeah, he does that.)**

**WHEEEE**


	5. High

"Shh. Don't scream," Descole said, almost gently, but he was too evil to even sound remotely gentle. Clive sat, curled up in the fetal position against the wall of a room in Descole's flat. A brown-haired woman was lying in the bed. It hit Clive like a hammer. Alicia.

"I'm not female. I don't scream," Clive replied, glancing up at Descole, who looked ridiculously tired. "What do you need me for? Why can't I get back home and sniff out your impostor?"

"Because Alicia will wake soon," Descole replied, moving over to Alicia's side and stroking her forehead. "And when she does, I need you to fetch her water and some food. Does that sound simple enough for a mass-murderer?"

Clive nodded his head and stood next to Descole, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on Nassau, Flora and Luke. Screw evil masterminds. Clive was not interested in dwelling on what he did. He was not interested in being there when someone else's fiancée woke up.

"I'm going to the toilet," Clive muttered and quickly escaped the flat. His legs were aching so badly and he kept falling. It hurt him to run, and he knew Descole was probably trying to catch him now.

He did not want to know about Descole's fiancée. He did not want to know what would happen to the dead Nassau. He did not know what would happen to the dead Luke. He just needed somewhere to run, somewhere to go, something to hold onto. He had lost everything he retained in the war, and he could tell he was on the verge of losing his legs.

He didn't even know he was in the Tunnels until he fell, once again, slamming into the ground with so much force he couldn't even move. Tears rolled from his eyes and he closed them, wishing to get away from everything.

* * *

"Clive! Clive, good God, what happened to you, my dear boy?" Clive's eyes opened. Constance Dove was leaning over him, concern on her face.

"I'm alright, Mum," he muttered. "Just fell. And I think I broke my legs."

"It's fine, Clive dear," Constance reassured him. "You'll be fine, fine. The doctors are coming. They're coming to save you."

"Mum," Clive choked out, "did I make the right choice? Running away from Descole..."

"You made the right choice," Constance soothed softly. "He's a monster, Clive. I need to go though, now, Clive. Shh. Don't tell anyone I was here. And look through your illusions. The drugs are making you hallucinate."

When Constance straightened up and walked away, it was not Constance. It was Alicia Altava.

* * *

Flora was the second person to happen upon Clive's unconscious body, if Alicia could be considered the first. When she awoke Clive, Alicia's drugs were blurring his vision so instead of Flora, he saw the face of Dr Skylar.

"Sky...?" he groaned, pain coursing through his legs. "Augh..."

"No, it's me, Flora. What happened?" she asked curiously. Clive blinked a few times, clearing his head enough to see Flora.

"It doesn't matter," Clive moaned. "Alicia... Mum... The Professor..."

"I'm not going to leave you," Flora said softly. "Besides, the Professor is coming anyway. You just need to stay still. Descole's-"

"No!" Clive cried out. "That's not Desco- AUUUUUUUUGH!" He broke off as his body spasmed with a cough. It hurt so badly, Clive wanted to scream. The drug was wearing off. "A...Alicia..." He fell to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Um, do you need more of these pills?" Flora asked, holding out a bottle. "I found them here, they were open..." Clive reached out and pulled the bottle from her hand, quickly checking how much it would take to kill him and staying under that. But it was enough to put him to sleep, to get him away from his pain.

* * *

Clive's eyes fluttered open. He was no longer lying on the hard floor of the Tunnel, he was lying on a warm mattress beneath a thick duvet. It was warm. There was a mug of hot chocolate next to him, and it was warm. Clive reached out and took a sip, relaxing. Maybe everything had been a dream after all, and Constance was still alive...

"Clive?" Alicia stepped in through the door. She was beautiful, with curled brown hair lighter than Emmy's. She was tall, wearing a light pink blouse and black flared trousers. She moved with a beautiful grace, with gentle blue and caring eyes. "Oh, you're awake. You almost overdosed. You've been asleep for so long."

She walked forwards and pulled a chair over to Clive's bedside, sitting down with a gentle smile. "I've heard so much about you, Clive, from the Professor."

"About how I nearly destroyed London?" Clive asked, sipping the hot chocolate. "Yeah, that was so great. All the women flock to my garden."

"Don't be silly," Alicia giggled, gently kissing Clive's forehead as if he were her child. "He told me about the real you, the kind boy who took them all around 'Future London'. And I think your plan was very intelligent."

"Thanks," Clive said with a grin he had to subdue slightly, or he would've betrayed his feelings. "So how was Descole before he became what he is now?"

"I hate him now," Alicia said, scowling. "The old Descole was so kind and loving. Something in him has changed. But anyway, there's news. While you were unconscious, we flew to Australia! We're safe here while the war goes on. There's no more war for us, Clive. You're going to be alright."

"I know," Clive replied, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "You make hot chocolates like Mum."

"Constance Dove?"

"Yeah, sorry. I've gotten accustomed to calling her 'mum' over the years."

"You called me that when I came to save you."

"That doesn't count. I was too high to think straight."


	6. Jean Descole's Issues

Descole took a step back, repulsed. He placed his head in his hands and sighed. All he had done, for so many long years, was all for nought. Alicia hated him now. He had tried so hard to find out why she was comatose, done everything he could to wake her, and in return she hated him. Then, this.

"'Sup?" Don Paolo asked, walking by with a piece of toast. He had been more casual since they arrived in Australia, and saying "'Sup" to Descole while eating some toast had somewhat become normal.

Descole merely pointed into the room. Don Paolo peered inside and whistled as he walked past. Descole sighed again. Sometimes the only other evil genius in the house was an idiot.

* * *

Agent White had been sniffed out so easily he thought his disguise was slipping, or perhaps there was a hole in his story, or maybe he just wasn't as convincing as he'd thought.

He sat, tied to a wooden chair in the center of a room barren of furniture. Layton was sitting opposite him, though while White was bound, Layton was sitting looking rather relaxed, a clipboard supported against his left forearm and a pen in his right hand. He had made note of anything interesting White had slipped out, but the agent was too good to let too much slip.

Descole slipped into the room and perched himself on another chair, scowling. Layton turned to Descole. "You aren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be under the surveillance of-"

"Of who? Nobody has been surveying me," Descole said, folding his arms and leaning back. "Besides, I am only here to listen."

Layton sighed, then turned back to Agent White. "So, Mr White, might you tell us if you shot Nassau Lewis?" Layton had already shown Agent White the picture of Nassau. The line of questioning was becoming pointless.

As Agent White kept silent, Descole threw himself from the chair and walked over to Agent White, pulling a pistol from his pocket and pressing it against Agent White's forehead. "Answer me," Descole said calmly, "or I will pull the trigger." Agent White said nothing. "Talk to me or I'll blow your fucking brains out."

"I shot Nassau Lewis," Agent White said. "What significance is it? You did kill him, after all."

"That is of no relevance. We are here to talk about you, not me," Descole said sharply. "Why did you shoot Lewis? Oh, and I'm not going to hesitate to pull this trigger. At least you have a reason not to speak, because you'll be dead." Descole snarled.

"I was sent to kill Nassau Lewis. He knew too much. I could not kill him," Agent White replied. "Unlike you. I presume you are a sociopath."

"If it's even possible, I would say I was turned sociopathic by a series of unfortunate events far more unfortunate than that of the Baudelaires," Descole hissed. "So. Would you like to tell us what Nassau knew?"

"No."

Descole moved his pistol and shot Agent White in the shoulder. He sharply bit his lip, as knowing crying out would only prompt Descole to shoot him more. "I will shoot every limb of yours and watch you slowly bleed to death in pain if you do not tell me what Nassau knew," Descole said sharply.

"That's enough, Descole!" Layton snapped. "Sit down. I'll see if he talks. If he doesn't, well... I'll consult all of you as to what we're going to do then."

* * *

Warm air blasted Descole's face as he stepped out onto the verandah, the breeze slightly lifting his cape behind him. He slowly walked down the steps and looked back up at the house with a sense of deep-rooted regret. He looked at the windows. Alicia was standing by one, watching him with sad eyes. They made eye contact for a split second before Descole spun on his heel and strode off.

He walked through the town in silence, ignoring the stares of the other townsfolk. As he walked, he lifted his cape off and flung it behind him. It collapsed in a heap of grey behind him. As Descole approached the park, he fired a shot into it. The children fled instantly, giving him the solitude he wanted - no, the solitude he needed.

Sitting on the swing, Descole wondered if he could say he'd ever been pure, if he'd ever been normal, or if this hatred and anger had been deeply rooted inside him all his life and it just took one event to change him.

He slipped the mask off and rose to his feet. He waited several seconds before the swing went still, then placed his mask and what he had once been on the seat and walked away.

He sat on the seesaw, looking out at the trees and their blooming fruits. He allowed a tear to break through his highly-protected barriers, then he pulled out the gun and pressed it to his chest. He took a deep breath, and his finger tightened on the trigger.

* * *

"That's his cape," Emmy noted as she jogged past it. "Which means he must've gone this way." She pointed straight ahead of the cape. Alicia rushed past Emmy, on a straight path. Flora hitched up her skirts and followed beside Emmy, who was keeping her pace a lot slower than Alicia's.

"Why are we chasing after Mr Descole?" Flora asked between slightly desperate gasps. "And why aren't we bringing the Professor?"

"Because this is the Altava family's business, not his," Emmy replied, then decided to add something. "And he's questioning Agent White."

"But why is Alicia so desperate?" Flora gasped. "Isn't Descole a... soci... soco..."

"Sociopath," Emmy corrected matter-of-factly. "Maybe. Maybe not. We don't know." Emmy squinted up ahead and gasped. "Oh! She's going to the park!"

"Why is Mr Descole in the park?" Flora asked. Emmy shrugged. "Should we speed up?"

Emmy shook her head. "If Descole IS in the park, there's not much point, because he'll want to talk to Alicia, not us. I'm just here because this concerns my sister, and you're here because you want to be."

Flora sped up anyway and as she swung open the light blue gate to the park, she saw Alicia standing in front of her. Flora shifted sideways to see over the older woman.

"Dessy!" Alicia shrieked, and Flora instantly tensed. Descole was holding a gun, and he had his eyes closed and face calm, as if he meant to take his final rest.

* * *

**DRAMATIC REAL DESCOLE. **

**Yeah, this chapter is full of mysteries. Okay, not really, I lied. **

**BUT IS DESCOLE GONNA DIE? Like Luke? And Nassau? And Maysey? And Dr Skylar? (Poor Maysey never got any attention :()**

**FIND OUT SOOOOOOON.**

**Taaaa,**

**FVKWY (psst. REVIEW. I'm trying to get lots of reviews! I like reviews!)**


	7. The Fragility of Life

Emmy stared out the window silently. She had been like that ever since Clive had left, a week ago. Silent. Barely moving - her only movements were to eat.

The whole house had descended into a melancholy silence. People stayed outside more than they stayed inside. Alicia kept returning to the park, where she would sit on the swing all day looking sad and barring children from fun.

The next Tuesday, the phone rang. The home phone. There was a scramble of breakfast-eating people to see who would get to the phone in time, and plates filled with food were dropped. Layton rolled his eyes as Don Paolo with a mouth full of food seized the phone.

"Hello?" he asked gruffly, watching the others walk off and try to clean up their mess.

"Get money," Clive's voice replied. "I need money. $500,000. Leave it on the verandah steps at precisely 11:50 tomorrow night. If you don't..." Clive paused. "Things may go very, very wrong." He hung up. Don Paolo jammed the phone back into the receiver.

"Well?" Alicia asked, wiping scrambled eggs off the carpet, which was now stained.

"We need to get $500,000 on the verandah steps tomorrow night at 11:50 otherwise Clive might be in a very... 'unfortunate' situation, as he put it," Don Paolo said.

"Where do we get the money?" Layton asked slowly. The phone rang again and Don Paolo picked it up.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention Descole's life hangs on your choice," Clive said and hung up.

"Well, we pay this money or Descole dies," Don Paolo said with a careless shrug. Alicia, who was crouching, jumped up instantly.

"Where do we get the money?" she demanded. "Because we are getting this money."

Layton sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Alicia."

Don Paolo smirked. "Well, I do."

* * *

Alarms blared in the distance as Don Paolo raced up to the verandah and slammed the bags of money down, then ran through the front door. Everyone was waiting.

"Is it done?" Flora asked curiously. Don Paolo nodded his head and watched as Flora ran into Clive's room and looked through the window.

Three men approached the verandah, dressed all in black. Two were roughly holding the one in the middle, and they threw him down on the verandah steps. Flora could see a trickle of blood dripping down onto the stepped and made a face.

One of the other men quickly counted the money in the bags then kicked the man who had created a puddle of blood and barked an order. The man slowly kneeled and there was a bang, then he let out a spine-chilling cry of agony and slumped.

The two men left without him. Emmy ran out the house, Alicia following closely behind but she could already tell the bleeding man was not Descole. The shape of their body was completely different.

And indeed it wasn't. As Emmy lifted the man into her arms, both of them illuminated by the a dim light on the verandah ceiling. The man was Clive, and blood was trickling from his mouth.

* * *

Within minutes, an ambulance was on its way and Clive had been shoved onto the sofa, still bleeding.

"If they did this to him," Alicia said, pacing the room, "what have they done to Dessy?"

"Never mind him," Don Paolo snapped. "We need to focus on Cli-" He yelped as a spray of blood hit him. "Eurgh. Where the fuck is he bleeding from?" Don Paolo threw Clive's jacket on the floor and neatly dodged the blood spray. "Shit. He needs urgent attention. Like, right now."

"What the fuck do we do?" Alicia snapped. "None of us have medical qualifications!"

"Put pressure on the wound?" Emmy suggested.

Don Paolo looked up at her for a wary moment, then tried it.

* * *

The ambulance had arrived swiftly enough, and Clive had been carted off in a stretcher. Flora was asleep on the sofa and everyone else was sitting restlessly in the kitchen. Alicia looked as if she was about to drop off into the land of sleep, as all she held was a glass of water while everyone else (even Layton) had settled for coffee.

"What do we do?" Emmy asked, taking a sip of bitter black coffee. "If Descole comes back in the same condition, then we could be paying an enormous fee for the treatment..."

"But this isn't about the money," Don Paolo replied. "This is about Clive. How the hell did people wanting American cash get their hands on him?"

"I'm presuming he hitchhiked with planes and got caught by a gang," Layton said quietly. "It's remarkably unlike the government to do that. This is one thing Clive can't blame Bill Hawks on." Just then, the phone rang. It had been moved to the kitchen in case it rang. Layton snatched it before anyone else could.

"Good. You gave us more than we expected," an electronically modified voice hissed. "But that doesn't mean your other friend's safety is assured. He's on the run from the British government, isn't he?"

"Yes," Layton choked.

"Of course. Now, we can return him like we did your friend: with a bullet in the back. Or, you can pay us in a very special price and assure his safety from the government and prevent him from a bullet in the back. Ask your mechanical friend to write us a program that will allow us to hack into any website, and we'll be there in a week's time for it. Is that clear? Good," the voice said, then hung up.

Layton looked up at Don Paolo. "You need to write a program that can hack into any website, but I'm not sure we should-"

"Nonsense!" Don Paolo snapped, gesturing to Alicia. "For a gentleman, you don't take her into consideration much, do you? Her fianc e's life is on the line, you know."

Layton bit his lip. "But..."

"Fuck you, Layton," Don Paolo said, standing up. "No, that doesn't even begin to start it. How about GO FUCK YOURSELF?" Don Paolo kicked Layton on his way past.

Layton looked back around the table. Alicia had completely fallen asleep and Emmy was scowling down at the chocolate-brown liquid sloshing around in her cup.

He rose from his chair and walked into his bedroom, shutting the door with a sigh. He collapsed down onto his bed and put his head in his hands.

Then there was a 'click'. Layton froze up and turned to see someone crouching on the bed, dressed all in black. Layton could say nothing as they slit his throat.

* * *

**You must think I am so horrible. Layton dead, Luke dead, Clive injured, Descole (almost) dead and the rest of them completely fine. **

**Layton's War will be ending soon, so stay tuned~**


End file.
